CARNIVAL
by Lady Khazaroth Mur
Summary: Is everything as real as it seems? After crashing into a remote Scottish hamlet, the Doctor and Amy discover there is a far more evil and sinister motive for kicking a clown to death...Warning - May contain strong violence/gore in latter chapters...
1. Preface

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all its characters aren't mine (sadly)**

A tacky melody piped from the garishly coloured tents and roughly strung lights of the fairground. The bitter snarl of the wind battered the canvases, the tents straining against the gyropes. Deep in the distance the lights of a small Scottish town sparkled faintly admit the monstrous elements. Silhouettes of locals trooped amid the ultra-violet coloured carnival, their faces cast into twisted shade.

"Come on, you don't want to miss the show."

A small child and her mother stood quietly under a tent's canopy, faceless people trooping past.

"Where's daddy gone?" the child resolutely said.

"I think he's gone to get tickets, now come one dear."

Grabbing the child's hand, the mother pulled her towards the neon hued big-top at the centre of the fair, headed straight to the winding line of punters.

The child stubbornly dug her heels in, gazing at the harsh night, critically studying the other people the queue. Somewhere in the child's tiny mind there was a niggle, a tiny, minute niggle. There was something wrong, like a twisted shadow on a wall, a broken statue. Something _wrong _hung over the carnival.

There was something she then spotted, from the very corner of her eye, dancing on the outside of existence. A hefty, pin-wheel marked tent's entrance hung ever so slightly open. A certain, pull, emanated from the tent, drawing the child in, as she slowly stepped towards the tent flap.

She leant into the tent's frigid and bizarre light.

The four-year-old's mind froze as things her still spawning mind couldn't comprehend bent her being with mis-understanding and primal fear.

"Don't you know it's rude to snoop, little girl?"

The petrified girl gazed about to take in the figure right behind her. A ring-master's top hat and cane stood out against the fairground neon.

"Have you lost your mummy, little one," the figure snarled, "but to be honest, perhaps you're one of the 'lucky' ones, because A, you're quite cute, and B, I'm too tired to kill you."

The child could only stand and stare, a black mist descending and the world spinning to never-ending oblivion.


	2. The Devil's Own Circus

**Disclaimer: Still not mine**

A bone-jarring impact blasted through her as the TARDIS hammered to possibly its worst landing yet.

Amy Pond lay sprawled out across the TARDIS floor, trying to work out whether anything was broken or not. "What the hell just happened?" Amy wheezed, trying ot reclaim the air that had been un-ceremoniously knocked out of her.

"I don't know," came a strangely composed voice from the other side of the console, "but I think we just crashed."

"Very astute of you," the flame haired girl growled.

A hand appeared in Amy's line of vision, "I know," the Doctor beamed, a smile plastered across his face.

Amy returned a sarcastic smile as the Doctor hauled her un-gracefully to her feet. "So where have we crashed then?"

"I think..." the Doctor consulted a screen coated in dancing sigils, squinting at the markings, "...we're on Earth." Before she could formulate a clever comment, the Doctor had bolted down the walk-way and out of the TARDIS's door, she could only follow suit.

A fanged wind sheered past Amy's legs as she staggered from the TARDIS, squinting against the misty murk of the day. The TARDIS had fallen into some kind of valley, titanic mountains leering from the sky-line and lurking in the fog. Also, she could just about make-out a small-ish town lying up the valley and veiled in the bad weather.

"Scotland."

Amy looked up at the Doctor, who was stood a few metres away from the TARDIS, "Scotland?"

The Doctor glanced back at her, "Shouldn't you be happy?"

The penny-dropped, "Very funny Doctor, not every Scot thinks they're out of Braveheart."

The Doctor simply grinned once more, a sense of 'I don't believe you' emanating from the Time Lord.

Amy crossed her arms, resolute in her grouchiness, "So can we go?"

"I need to check the TARDIS for damages first."

"Great, so we're stuck here then?"

"Sort of yes," the Doctor mumbled, tripping over his words, "but something is bound to happen -"

"Like that fairground-"

"Yeah, fairgrounds are always fun!"

"-that's on fire?!"

The Doctor spun in the direction Amy was pointing, not so far away was a sprawl of brightly hued tents, many of which spat and spluttered which harsh flames. "You see? What did I tell you?!" the Doctor yelled with peculiar excitement, before sprinting off across the damp moss and grass.

"OI! Doctor!" Amy cried, trying to call the excitable Time Lord back, but her efforts went to no avail as he vanished out of ear-shot.

Darting behind a trashed caravan, the Doctor could see the situation more clearly. Gangs of enraged locals were tearing at the marquees and throwing and tossing gallons of petrol across the ground. Trying to understand the situation the Doctor glanced around, trying to work out what was going on through the screams and shouts of the enraged Scots.

Then, a figure tumbled out of a tent, and began to scrabble across the sodden earth when a rioter spotted him. A terrible cry went up and the maddened humans began to charge at the figure, their boots starting to find their marks on the being's chest and head.

The Doctor froze; they were going to kick that man to death. "Damn it," he muttered to himself before lurching out from behind the caravan.

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"I just saved your life so keep running!"

The TARDIS shot into view, Amy was no-where to be seen. The Doctor guessed she must have gone back inside, out of boredom and irritation probably.

"In the box."

"What?"

"In the box!"

Shoving the man bodily through the TARDIS doors, before darting in himself and locking the portal behind him, sounds of the angry mob fading to nil.

The man was standing by the console, gazing up at the cavernous ceiling.

"Now I don't want you to be..."

The man snorted, "To be honest with you, I don't care if you seem to be the proud owner of the love-child of a telephone box and a cathedral, whoever-you-are, you see lots of weird stuff when you've worked in a circus as long as I have."

The Doctor blinked, "Right."

It was sort of the first time the Doctor had taken a good look at the man. He was a clown, skin bleached a misty white, garish red hair trailing to his waist, beard tied in a twee little bow and weird red and black designs all across his face.

"So you are?" the Doctor hesitantly asked.

"Maxwell."

"The Doctor."

A brief moment passed as the bulky clown and the skinny Time Lord stared at each other before the Doctor decided to ask the question that had been eating at his expansive mind. "So why were the locals so angry with you?"

"It's a long story."

"I have a lot of time."

The clown ground his teeth, glancing away from the Doctor, "It's an old circus story, about what we call 'The Devil's Own Circus'."

Something sparked behind the Doctor's eyes, "Now you have me interested."

"The story goes that a circus just appears somewhere, with a one night performance. There's no PR, no nothing, the just appear..."

"And now I guess you're going to say about something sinister that happens right?"

Maxwell narrowed his eyes, "Whoever goes to 'The Devil's Own Circus' never comes back, as we say, no survivors..."

"Dead."

"Yes, they supposedly murder everyone who goes to their shows, as I said, no survivors."

"And they came here?"

"19 years ago, the rumours say they came here, no circus has had the balls to come here since...but my boss is young and stupid..."

"So, a legend about a circus of mass murderers ey?"

"But there's more."

The Doctor fell silent.

"I said there are no survivors, but that's technically not true. 19 years ago there was a survivor. The morning after the circus had been here, someone found a small child, a little girl, un-conscious, half-a-mile from where the circus had been. The rumour is that she had no memory, no memory at all; the girl could barely remember her name."

"Her name?"

"I don't know that I'm sorry..."

"The Doctor grinned to himself, thoughts falling swiftly into sync. "Oh Maxwell, Maxwell, Maxwell," the Doctor grinned, "you really have caught my interest..."


End file.
